


When I'm With You

by FrecklesOfTheSeasons



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Crimes & Criminals, Emotional Constipation, Eventual Romance, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, OT3, Strangers to Lovers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-12-31 05:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21085490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrecklesOfTheSeasons/pseuds/FrecklesOfTheSeasons
Summary: "When you do what I do, you have to believe in something." He says, stepping closer. "And I believe in karma."The smile falls off of his foe's face, replaced by a grim look."You'll find your own, one day," He snarls. "It'll come for you."Felix looks him in the eye, and he does not smile."It already has."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #A73: Hitmen/Assasins/Criminals
> 
> Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/00NXPLM0MwGtqS6ruD74q0?si=pVF__c8lQfWdjYTXA0DRmg
> 
> Pinterest board: https://pin.it/pj6n76ishuiv6e

Blood, guts, and tears. Felix's forehead is sweaty from exertion, his hair plastered to the skin there. The bandages wrapped around his knuckles do little to protect them from the harsh sting of impact against his foe's face. Bone collides with bone, and Felix thinks that maybe he hears a crunch accompanied with a burst of pain, but he pays it no mind. The dim lighting on the rooftop creates an eerie atmosphere, and the lights blur and spin as Felix takes a fist to the face. He shakes it off, taking his pistol off of his belt, jamming the butt of it into his enemy's temple. The other man stumbles closer towards the ledge. 

_ Kang Jinwoo. _The man is a serial assaulter, taking advantage of any and every woman he can. It was only a matter of time until karma caught up with him. Felix likes to think of himself as karma's soldier. He delivers pain unto those who give it out freely. He might have even taken this case for free. Now, as he turns off the safety on the firearm in his bandaged hand, he feels no regret. 

He has a plan, always does, but he allows himself the liberty of giving a little more punishment than just a bullet to the head every once in a while. He aims the barrel of the gun at Jinwoo's head, and his lip curls in disgust. The criminal backs away, hands in the air. 

"T-there's no need to be hasty," he laughs nervously. "I can explain everything, listen, I was found not guilty in a court of-" 

Felix laughs gruffly. His hair falls into his eyes, and when he tilts his head to the side, they show off a cruel gleam. 

"I don't give a damn what the law says," He growls. "It's been wrong before, and it will be again. I pray no one will miss you when you're gone." 

Jinwoo smiles and Felix's lip curls further. 

"I didn't take you for the religious type," He says smugly, and Felix snorts. 

"When you do what I do, you have to believe in something." He says, stepping closer. "And I believe in karma."

The smile falls off of his foe's face, replaced by a grim look. 

"You'll find your own, one day," He snarls. "It'll come for you." 

Felix looks him in the eye, and he does not smile.

"It already has." 

The sound of a gunshot splits the air. No one hears it. The body of Kang Jinwoo crumples to the ground. With bandaged hands, Felix takes the man's coat collar into his fingers and drags him towards the ledge of the building. It bumps over shattered glass and crumbled concrete, and Felix lets out a huff of air when he finally reaches the edge of the rooftop.

"This is going to make a lot of someones very happy." He says, and with little grace, he throws the soon to be corpse into the traffic jammed streets of Seoul. There's the crash of metal, and blaring of car horns. He steps away from the ledge. 

Alone, on the rooftop, Felix wipes away the leftover red from a bloody nose with the back of his hand. It catches on the dirtied white of bandages and leaves a dark stain. He lets his head fall back and looks up at the sky with hardened eyes. They've seen too much. He's seen too much. The sky is cloudy with smog from the city, the city that Felix used to love so damned much. Now his hands are dirty and his conscience is stained and he'll never be able to go back from here. This city is not his. This city belongs to no one. It is filled with nothing but hate and crime and injustice, and there is little one can do to change it. Felix does that change, with many sins and little remorse. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


His arrival to the compound is silent. He walks without poise and without arrogance, a quiet mouse in a gutter of rats. He carries a lighter in his hand. Felix doesn't smoke, had stopped at request months back, but the smooth, cheap plastic of the lighter does not fail to ground him still. It's cool to the touch where it brushes his skin. With his right hand, he feels around his face, mostly his nose. He'd taken a hard blow there, and he wants to make sure it isn't broken before he gets inside. 

He's stopped feeling pain to a dangerous extent. Felix is sure that at least a few of his right knuckles are broken, but he can't find any damage similar to that to his nose. He feels along the bridge for a few moments longer before he's satisfied. His hands try their best to wipe away any leftover blood on his face, but he still looks a right mess. The blonde sees himself in a dirtied rearview mirror, and he feels hollow. With little noise and little feeling, he makes his way inside. 

The compound isn't much, just a few abandoned storage boxes connected through a small hallway. At a glimpse, it looks like an empty construction lot, half finished buildings scattered here and there. Really, they've got plumbing, electricity, and even gas lines. It's almost too good to be true. Felix had thought that when he was found. He hoists the duffel bag he carries higher onto his shoulder and ducks under the swooping drape of a torn tarp. The hallway itself is lined with linoleum tiles, stained unsightly colors from wear and tear. The metal of the storage boxes is rusty and peeling paint, but Felix pays it no mind. 

He ducks into the last box, rapping at the metal, half-hazardly held door before doing so. The lights are on, and Felix has to blink his eyes repeatedly to get used to them after going so long in the dark. 

"Mr. Park, sir." He calls, voice tight. "I have received my payment for the Kang case. Your share is in the bag." 

Felix tosses the duffel in front of the man's desk. It thuds heavily onto the floor, and Mr. Park stares at him curiously. 

"It's less than last time," He says. Felix hates that Park can tell just from the weight. The man's a genius, but he's utterly despicable. "You realize you have a debt to pay?" 

And he has been paying it, for the last five years. It's never enough for Park Jinyoung. Felix grits his teeth. 

"I'll ask for more next time." He promises. 

Mr. Park tuts quietly, and his hands set a book face down onto the wood of his desk. He rearranges his reading glasses on his face. 

"Felix, you know I like you, hm?" His sharp eyes look up into Felix's own. Felix hates those eyes. "I only want the best for you. Once you've paid your debt off, you're free to go. You know this." 

Felix only nods, jaw clenched so hard it's almost painful. 

"So why the lies? We both know how weak you really are." The words hit Felix in the gut. "My top assassin, but you just can't help but feel things, hm? One tear and you're all in." 

The blonde breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. It's alright. He's used to this. 

"Let's make a deal." Felix wants to do anything but make another deal. "From now on, all your earnings go to me." 

His head snaps up, eyes going wide. 

"I'll give you a weekly allowance to buy food and necessities with." Mr. Park drawls in his raspy voice. The golden watch on his wrist ticks away the time. "You can take care of yourself that way. Consider it an owed favor." 

"Sir," Felix says, voice low. "That money is mine, I kill for it. It belongs to me. I need it to take care of-" 

"They can take care of themselves." Mr. Park says, humor entering his voice. "I'd hate it if they suddenly couldn't, hm? If I took away their allowance?" 

Felix swallows. He knows there's nothing he can do. Begrudgingly, he nods his head, but his hands are clenched into fists, knuckles aching where he'd broken them. 

"Felix, it's only until you pay off your debt. You know that." 

Felix knows. Even as he leaves, kicks the side of an empty storage box with his steel-toed boot, he knows. 

He longs for the soft touch of another human, but he can't let himself have it. He doesn't deserve it, he's dirty, dirty, dirty. He rolls the sleeves of his coat up and scratches harshly at the skin his arms with bandaged fingers to distract himself from the self hatred he feels. 

Felix pauses in front of a crumpled metal door and clenches his hands into fists. He ignores the twinge of pain in his knuckles. He should definitely get those checked out. His mind is racing as he struggles to force himself inside. 

"Come in." _ That _voice. His lungs seize for a moment, and he raises the door with one arm, peeking inside. The doctor is standing, working with the limited machinery he has. Felix doesn't see his assisting nurse. He walks hesitantly inside. "You've done a number on yourself." 

"As usual," Felix says, avoiding Minho's eyes. "The other guy got it worse." 

The blonde sits himself down on the edge of the one hospital bed they own. They don't need it much anyways. Minho hums. 

"I assume so, considering he's dead." It's nonchalant, the way he says it, but Felix's body is still just as stiff as when he arrived. "What was it this time?" 

Felix swallows heavily, tapping his fingers against the metal frame of the bed. 

"You know I can't talk about that." He says, voice low. "It's confidential." 

Minho looks up from where he's dabbing antiseptic onto a cotton ball. 

"You can trust me." His eyes have a playful glint in them, and Felix feels a small amount of anger build in his stomach. He grips the bed frame tighter, and stays silent. "Hold still." 

Despite those words, Felix still flinches when Minho reaches out to him with gloved hands. The doctor tuts, taking Felix's right hand in his own and peeling off the bloodied bandages. 

"Not very good at obeying, are you?" He asks. The question is mostly rhetorical, Felix knows, but it doesn't stop the kick of anger growing inside him. 

"Fuck off." He growls, and huffs when Minho chuckles. 

Felix still has his mask on, a plain black thing, made for filtering out fine dust, and he hides behind it his grimace when Minho feels along his fingers and sharp pain shoots through them. The doctor looks up at him with disdain. 

"You won't keep a brace on even if I tell you to, will you?" Felix huffs again, and Minho sighs. His thumb runs over the frame of Felix's hand, and the movement is gentle, too gentle for this situation. Felix is suddenly very on edge. 

The doctor leans away, Felix's fingers still in his hold, and comes back with the cotton ball he'd previously soaked in antiseptic. He dabs it along Felix's knuckles where the skin has split and blood is drying. 

"Where is he?" Felix's voice is muffled behind the mask, and he tries to make it casual. 

Minho stills his hand. 

"Changbin?" He asks, without looking up, and continues to clean up the mess Felix has made of his knuckles. 

Felix nods. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are averted. He won't look at the way Minho's hands look dainty compared to his own scarred and bloody ones, the gentle way he cleans and disinfects Felix's wounds. It's unnerving. 

"He had business." Minho says, and Felix nods again. "Why, d'you miss him? Am I not good enough company?" 

The doctor pouts and Felix wrinkles his nose. 

"No, I don't miss him." His voice is a low growl. "And secondly, you're hardly any company at all." 

Minho feigns offense before throwing the dirtied cotton ball into a bin at the side of the bed and stepping back to fetch a roll of bandages. He holds onto Felix's hand the whole time, and the blonde admittedly stares at where their skin touches a little too long. 

"You definitely miss him." Minho snickers when he comes back, adjusting his steady hold on Felix's hand and tearing off a length of bandage with his teeth. 

"Is that even sanitary?" Felix asks, wrinkling his nose again, though he's not sure Minho even sees. 

"Listen," The doctor says suddenly. "I'm being good to you. Look, I'm even holding your hand like a good boyfriend should. Be grateful." 

It takes everything Felix has not to rip his hand away, a low rumbling noise growing in his throat. 

"And stop growling at me." Minho snipes. "You sound like one of those little dogs, you know, the ones that never shut up." 

"You would know," Felix snaps. His fingers twitch where Minho is wrapping them. 

"At least I make an effort, Mister Strong but Silent." The brunette sniffs, finishing up wrapping and taping the end of the bandage down. 

There's the clang of metal as the door opens and shuts, and the soft sound of footsteps follows. 

"You guys should talk more." Felix turns his head. Changbin is there, in a white lab coat and a face mask to match. He pulls it down with bare fingers. "It's fun to see you bond." 

The boy's black hair falls into his eyes, and he smiles softly. Minho snorts, and begins unwrapping the dirtied bandages on Felix's other hand. 

"We're hardly bonding." He says, and Felix turns to glare at him again. "He keeps snarking at me. What a brat." 

There's a split moment of silence and then an unearthly screech. Felix flinches as Minho pulls his hand up into the air for Changbin to see. 

"Look at this!!" He says, waving Felix's hand around. "It's a wonder he's still alive! He can't even take care of his wounds correctly!" 

The doctor has a point. Felix is usually far too tired after a case, and as soon as he turns in Mr. Kim's share of money, he heads home instead of seeing Minho. On his own, he has hardly any knowledge on anything medical, and his injuries get infected easily when he forgets to take care of them. 

Minho grumbles some more, but gets to the point quickly, cleaning Felix's hand as the blonde tries not to fall asleep. He hates to admit it, but even though it stings, the care to his hand is soothing. His head nods a bit before he jerks upright. When he looks up, the doctor is watching him with something unreadable in his eyes, Changbin by his side. 

"When was the last time you slept?" Changbin asks softly. Felix shakes his head. 

"'S not important." He mumbles, voice slipping lower with sleep. Minho tapes down the final piece of bandage and sighs. 

"Let me guess? 48 hours?" He asks, tiredly. Felix shakes his head again. 

"72." He finds himself saying, even though he doesn't want to. He's surprised it's only catching up to him now, but Felix has never slept well anyways. 

Minho sighs again, still holding Felix's hand. 

"You need to sleep more." The doctor says, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Felix looks up at him with sleepy eyes. 

"Don't tell me what to do." His voice is gruff, and he rips his hand away, shaking it as if to rid his skin of Minho's touch. He doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve it. 

Minho throws his hands up in the air exasperatedly. 

"Look at him!" He says to Changbin, who only smiles fondly. "Ungrateful. Tsk." 

The doctor places his hands on Felix's shoulders and pushes him backwards so that he's laying down on the bed. Minho is looming over him and Felix is suddenly very awake, eyes wide, face hot underneath his mask. 

"As your doctor," The brunette says sternly. "I am _ telling you _ to get more sleep. It's a prescription." 

He leans away, and Felix stays still, even as Changbin hoists his legs up onto the bed, arranging him so that he's lying down properly. He blinks rapidly for a moment, too startled to protest as Minho comes back with a thick downy blanket, draping it over his body. 

"You can change your clothes in the morning." He says sharply. "And don't you dare go getting any ideas of leaving in the middle of the night. If that bed is empty when I wake up tomorrow, I will hunt you down myself!" 

Felix stares at him through the hair in his eyes, watches Minho as he places his tools onto the table. He watches Changbin put away the bandages and lean in to whisper something in Minho's ear. Minho listens for a moment, then nods. His voice is soft when he speaks, too quiet for Felix to hear. 

The blonde looks up at the ceiling and lets out a shuddering sigh, eyelids slipping closed. He falls asleep to the sound of water running and soft voices speaking to each other. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He jerks awake shortly after 3 A.M. His pulse is racing, heart pounding, and heavy breaths leave his lips. He lets out a quiet groan and runs his bandaged fingers through his hair, which is plastered against his forehead with sweat. Another nightmare, another night with close to no sleep. He looks across the room in Minho and Changbin's direction, watching the rise and fall of their chests as they hold each other close. 

Felix isn't sure what the two have going on there, but it has his throat closing up and his chest feeling heavy. He knows he can never have that. Ignoring Minho's warnings, Felix slips his legs over the side of the bed, hopping off as quietly as possible. He's still wearing his jeans and hefty jacket, and he's more than a little uncomfortable. There's blood smears on his cheek when he looks in the mirror, dry and crusted on now. He can't go anywhere looking like that. 

As quickly as he can while still remaining silent, Felix changes clothes, thankful that he keeps some here for nights like these. He opts for a new pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, the chain around his neck making clinking noises as he pulls the fabric of his old shirt over his head. He still has bandages wrapped around his waist from where he took a bullet to his side a month back, not having time to change them. Felix remembers hobbling into the compound that night, blood dripping from his lips, collapsing to the ground in front of Minho. The blonde feels almost guilty for fighting with the doctor so often, then. 

Deciding he'll be respectful and at least change his bandages, he looks around for the roll that Minho had used the night before, mouth opening in a quiet _ ah _ when he finds it. He rips off a long piece in his teeth, despite complaining about it earlier, and tries to wrap it around the wound and his waist, but he can't seem to hold it in place. Felix stiffens, freezing in place as he hears the creak of movement from across the room. A figure sits up on the two beds pressed together, and he readies himself for another argument. 

It remains quiet, though. The figure slips out of the bed and walks silently towards Felix, and as it grows closer, he recognizes it as Changbin. His posture relaxes, only a little bit, as the other boy reaches his side, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Leaving already?" His voice is raspy with sleep. Felix nods, not making a sound. "Minho won't be happy. Here, let me help you with that." 

Felix stays still as Changbin fixes the bandages for him, watching him closely as the other boy wraps his waist with careful movements. His lips part, but he shuts them just as quickly, swallowing around a lump in his throat when Changbin presses a hand against his abdomen. It's bigger, if only slightly, than his own, and the thumb strokes absentmindedly against his skin. It's a quiet moment, in the early morning, and the touch scares him as much as it makes him relieved. When Changbin finishes wrapping his wound, the hand leaves, and Felix lets out a sharp breath he hadn't known he was holding. 

It comes back to tape the bandages together, and Felix tries not to go stiff again. He's not completely heartless, he knows humans have feelings. He knows that he's different. Lee Felix has no feelings. They'd been stripped from him the moment he started this job. He was so young, then. But jobs like these, they have rules, and Felix had been taught them very well. 

Rule number one. 

_ Don't get attached. _

It's safe to say that he's followed that one well. Changbin steps back and they meet eyes, and Felix wonders why the other boy doesn't seem afraid. He's murdered in cold blood before. 

Rule number two. 

_ Feel no fear. _

The first time Felix had killed someone, he had been very afraid. His hands were shaky and inexperienced, and he'd missed his aim the first try. He barely had enough time to reload his pistol before there was a knife in his thigh. His first kill was messy, at best, a bullet lodged in the right side of his victim's brain. 

Rule number three. 

_ Feel no remorse. _

And how anguished he'd felt mere hours later, in the infirmary of the compound with a doctor whose name he still does not know. The gash in his leg had bled strongly, but the crack in his innocence hurt far more. And oh, how that crack had widened. Felix thinks this rule had been the hardest to follow, but he's got it down now. Lee Felix has no feelings. 

He repeats it to himself in his head like a mantra, even as Changbin pulls away, the softness of his touch going with him. 

"Here," The other boy says softly, handing Felix his new shirt. He takes it, hand hesitant, but not shaky. "I'll cover for you. Where will you go?" 

Felix knows he shouldn't say. He shouldn't tell anyone, can't trust anyone. His bandaged fingers clench into fists. Changbin blinks at him quietly. 

"Out." Felix eventually says. "Food run. I'll stop by in the morning." 

Changbin nods, and Felix pulls the shirt over his head, wincing at the stretch of skin around his wound. 

"You really should take better care of yourself." Changbin murmurs. "Minho and I- we worry about you." 

Felix's lips part in shock at the admission. He hasn't had anyone worry for him in so long. His family probably thinks he's dead at this point, have for years. His hand reaches out for Changbin's shoulder, but it halts in its movement. He can't touch anyone without feeling regret. He's a killer, he doesn't deserve to touch anyone. His arm falls back to his side. 

He slips his jacket back on in silence, and freezes when something wet touches his cheek. Changbin dabs at the skin there, wiping away any traces of blood. 

"You can't go out like that," He says. "People will wonder." 

Felix can only nod as Changbin pulls away. He starts his way out of the room, then looks back. 

"Changbin-" He hesitates, biting his lip when the other boy turns to face him. "Tell Minho- tell him that I said thank you." 

Changbin blinks a few times, then smiles warmly. 

"Of course." He says, voice soft, and then Felix is out the door. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The air is crisp and cold against his cheeks as Felix leaves the compound. Home, he wants to go home. Sorrow is something he always feels when he remembers he does not have one. Felix shuts his eyes against the chilly breeze and takes a deep breath. This is the most free he'll ever be. Here, on the precipice between danger and death. 

Seoul is alive when all else is not. The blur of street lights and neon signs, car alarms blaring. It's hard to believe only hours before it had seemed so quiet. Felix takes comfort in the noise. It makes his head buzz less, makes him forget all the thoughts he has when it's quiet. Seoul is his peace. Seoul is his quiet. 

But it's rotten and filthy. The streets are rampant with rats who know no wrong. They hurt and they kill and they do it all for fun. Felix breathes out. His hands are shoved into black leather gloves with holes for his fingers to stick through. He clenches them into fists and wishes he could feel his fingernails dig into his palms, wishes he could feel something at all. Sometimes, he stands on the edge of the highest buildings, peering over the sides at the busy streets below. How easy would it be to fall? 

But he has work to do, so he can't, so he doesn't. There's always work to do. He's selective with his cases when he shouldn't be. This next case is particularly nasty. Felix knows he shouldn't have taken one so soon after the last, but they were already lined up for him. Why not knock two down in one night? His fingers itch for a cigarette. Instead, he shoves his glove clad hands into the pockets of his jacket, holds his head down low, and continues on his way. 

He'd quit smoking months ago. He'd started after he took his first couple of jobs, the stress and the guilt too much for him to bear. The smoke in his lungs numbed him from all else. But when he and Minho had met, something changed. For one, the surgeon had taken his lighter. It was the time when Felix had refused to talk to anyone other than Mr. Park, so he had stayed quiet, and proceeded to buy a new one. 

The second time Minho caught him smoking, he threw a fit. Felix sat there, dumbfounded, outside of the compound, as Minho ripped the cigarette from his fingers and stomped it out on the ground. A puff of quiet laughter leaves Felix's lips at the memory. Minho really had no idea how to mind his own business, if the way he hounds Felix for gossip is anything to go by. He's a nuisance at best, though Felix's lips still quirk upward at the thought of him. 

Soon, though, all humorous thoughts leave his head. He nears his destination. Apartment 203. The complex it sits in is abandoned, paint peeling and chain link fences set up around it. He hops the front gate with ease. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He doesn't stop by in the morning, as he had said he would. The compound is ugly in the daylight, and he isn't ready to face Minho and Changbin again so quickly. He's not afraid to admit that the tremors in his hands grow stronger every time a new death is added to his memory. Minho won't stop trying to find out the reason behind the tremors at all, and Felix gave up trying to explain before he even started. As long as he can hold a gun steady, it'll be fine. And when he can't? He'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. 

Felix holes himself up in an inconspicuous motel, and he doesn't even try to sleep. He knows he won't be able to. An insatiable insomniac, his mind won't settle until he's worn it out with enough nightmare material to fuel a lifetime. And he hasn't reached that goal just yet. No, instead of sleeping he pores over every bit of intel he'd gathered for this case. 

Jung Jooheon was a textbook narcissist. Everything he did read as such, every interaction he'd ever had up until his untimely death. Felix bites the inside of his cheek. His girlfriend had complained about him several times to her family and friends. He seemed to fantasize about great success at the same time as putting her own down. 

His rage after she left him was based along his superiority complex. The thing is, Felix had planned everything out. He knew exactly where Jooheon would be at every point in the day, every mannerism the man had. Felix knew everything, and he'd found it out by himself. 

He bites his lip as he looks over the folders of his work, flipping through the photographs he'd taken on his own time. Felix's job is full time, every hour he lives is an hour he's on the clock. He doesn't have time to eat or sleep. He relies on his many guns to keep him safe, instead. 

One look at the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. It's no longer morning, but 3:00 in the afternoon. The words _ food run _ echo in his head. He shoves his folders and papers into his used duffel bag, shrugging the heavy olive green jacket back onto his shoulders and torso. The bullet wound in his side sends a sharp shooting pain as his muscles stretch and he lets out a hiss. 

But pain is nothing to him, as it has been for years. Pain is numbed by the guns in his hands and the blood on his skin. If he tries hard enough he can taste that same iron tang in the back of his throat. He is made of blood and he will spill blood, and it will never be his own. 

Felix makes his way out the door. His motorcycle is the same as always, a sleek black that probably could use some cleaning. And as always, he forgoes a helmet. His whole life is a safety hazard, and he doesn't have time to fix it, even if Minho nags him about it. It's nearly four when he reaches the compound. 

Mr. Park isn't around, likely on business. Felix doesn't miss him. The man has a god complex superior to any other Felix has ever met, and he scoffs thinking about it. His hand drifts down subconsciously to the bullet wound. Breathe in. His footsteps make scuffling noises in the dirt. Dirty shoes and a dirty conscious go hand in hand. He nears the storage boxes and everything in his body tightens up, the common danger signal running through his veins. Felix doesn't think he'll ever be at peace. 

He raps his knuckles against the familiar sheet of metal used as a door, a bag of groceries in his hand. His breath is kept quiet where he holds it in his lungs.

and the silence is suffocating. He tells himself that it doesn't matter, that Minho's worries don't matter, his feelings don't matter. All that matters is work and money and work and the sound of a bullet ricocheting through the chamber of a loaded gun. 

The door slides up, and he's met with Changbin's worried face. A little part of Felix softens before he shuts it away. He holds up the bag of groceries and averts his eyes. Changbin lets him in without a word. Felix breathes out, breathes in, and readies himself for an assault. 

It comes, not like he'd thought, in a rain of cotton balls. They hit him two at a time, and he looks up, bewildered, to see Minho going through an entire bag in several seconds, chucking cotton at Felix with a perfect picture of rage on his face. 

"You absolute fucking _ walnut, _ how _ dare _ you go behind my back and leave in the middle of the night, you're fucking crazy, you know that?" The doctor snaps, throwing the cotton harder. "Everything I do I do for your _ safety, _ you stale piece of raisin bread, and you just ignore me _ completely _to run off and do more work!" 

Felix blinks. The rain of cotton balls comes to a halt. He doesn't know what he's feeling, but he knows that it's strange and unwelcome, and he doesn't like it. Minho looks like he's expecting Felix to snap back at him, but the boy is so thrown off kilter that all that comes out is, 

"Sorry." It surprises even himself. He makes quick work of moving to the side and placing the groceries on a clean counter. When Felix looks up, Minho's eyes are wide, lips parted, before they settle into a firm line. 

"I guess that's all I'll be getting out of you on that topic." He says flatly, and Changbin shoots him a look from the corner of Felix's eye. Felix himself feels a worm of guilt creep through him, as he sets about putting the groceries away. 

He doesn't _ feel _ things. It's just not him. It's probably the case, he thinks. The shock of being caught up with and surpassed. It makes him clumsy in his work, dropping things here and there. He pretends not to notice Minho tapping his foot and Changbin looking at him anxiously. 

"Is there anything else you need?" He asks, and it sounds empty, like an echo of a person he doesn't really know. He convinces himself that his voice doesn't wobble. 

"I'd _ love _ it if you actually got some rest." Minho says snappishly, ignoring Changbin's soft whisper of _ "Minho." _

Felix's head bobs silently before he answers. 

"I can't." He says, and he doesn't know what's come over him. Minho scoffs. 

"And why is that?" He asks, as if he's ready for some dumb excuse. 

Felix shrugs. 

"I don't sleep well." He says, blond hair falling into his eyes. He's had a mask over his face this whole time, and he removes it with shaky fingers. "Nightmares." 

He watches Minho's brain stutter for a moment before it rewinds and starts again. The doctor is silent, and Felix makes his way over to the hospital bed, removing the jacket. He feels vulnerable, and small, and it scares him. He starts to pull off his shirt next. 

"What are you doing?" Minho splutters, and Felix looks up at him quietly from his place on the bed, pulling the shirt over his head. The cold air hits his skin and he shivers. He gestures to his bandaged side, where blood has started to soak through. 

"I think I tore the wound again." Then, "Sorry." 

Minho shakes his head and makes his way over, Changbin trailing behind. 

"This wouldn't happen if you would just _ listen _to me." He says, but it's softer, gentler than before. Felix shrugs, and the stretch of it makes him hiss quietly through his teeth. He doesn't apologize again. It's shocking that he'd even done it in the first place. But Minho's fingertips on his skin are as cold as the metal needle between them as they sew the wound shut. 

Felix hardly feels it. He's out of focus, eyes staring into the head of brown hair in front of him. It looks soft, Minho's hair, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to touch it. His eyes close. Minho is humming something that Felix doesn't know, but it sounds nice. He could almost fall asleep here, bare and vulnerable in Minho's hands. His eyes snap open and he clears his throat, sitting up straighter as the doctor finishes his work. 

_ Trust no one, _ he reminds himself. _ Trust no one. _

There's a small little thing inside him that tells him he can, he should. He shuts it away. Changbin stands at his side, hands fidgeting, and Felix's eyes trail over their restless form. He remembers when his hands shook like that, too, before he was raised with a gun in his hand and blood in his mouth. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


His head thunks hard against concrete and his vision swims for a moment, dots of black fuzzing over the corners of his mind. He snarls and forces himself back up, throwing a nasty right hook and grinning, not quite maniacally, as his fist comes in contact with the familiar crunch of bone. There's blood dripping into his eyes and down his nose into the seam of his lips, and he licks them in order to stay focused. Iron mixes with salt on his tongue, blood and sweat the same. 

Felix lifts his left foot and brings steel-toed boots down _ hard _ onto his target, the enemy's own foot, while the man is caught off guard. His foe screams, a gut-wrenching sound pulled from his throat as Felix grinds his foot down, smirking all the while. 

"No hard feelings," He says, quite breathlessly, before pausing, and crushing his foot down harder. "Actually, hard feelings. You've earned your place in hell." 

He clicks the safety off on his gun, encased in his right hand in a vice grip, and sends a bullet shooting straight through the man's skull. There's silence, then the dull thud of a body hitting cement. The grin slips off of Felix's face and turns into something more grim. The corners of his lips turn down as he wipes at his face with his sleeve, turning the safety back on with a simple resounding _ click. _Blood smears across his face, but his eyes lack the insanity of someone who has killed as many as he. 

He'd considered getting them, once. Tattoos of tally marks, crossing off every life he'd ever ended. Every moment he'd never forget. They run through his mind on a constant loop. He shoves his pistol into his belt and wipes at his face again. He can feel the blood seeping into his hair and down his face from where he'd smashed his head only minutes prior. It always ends so fast. A puff of air leaves his lips, clouding in the frigid air under his nose. 

Felix nudges the body with his boot, taking in the man's dead eyes and his bloodied face, mouth open in barely there shock. Two seconds too late. He'd never seen that last shot coming. Felix's breath comes out ragged where it should be steady, his knuckles ache where they're meant to be numb. The bandages he's donned so frequently have slipped off of his fingers at this point, dirtied and bloody on the floor. There's no use picking them up now. 

He considers how to dispose of the body, then settles on leaving it there. An alley in a nowhere part of town, with no one to wonder where the man had gone. Felix's lip curls at the utter filth at his feet. Disgusting. He turns on his heel and makes his way back to his motorbike. He looks down at his gloved hands. Disgusting. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It's been two months since he'd last stopped by the compound. He'd come by to drop off Park's share of cash for his last job, but didn't bother popping in to say hi to Changbin and Minho. They bring out something in Felix that he isn't sure of, and that makes them dangerous. Not to mention the state he'd been in at the time made him far too vulnerable. A nasty concussion and a possible crushed rib made it hard to even drive. He's sure he'd broken many more laws than the simple "no killing" one. Not that it really mattered. He was far out of the system already. 

He knows, deep down, that he should have checked in and gotten the go ahead from Minho to begin work again, but there had been and still is something on his mind. He can't seem to forget it. 

He chews at the skin around his fingernails and doesn't flinch at the stinging pain and the spots of blood that appear. They're nothing to him as he thinks, in a shitty room in another motel. He knows he could afford better, but it's more important to stay on the down low. He can save and he can save, and maybe he'll buy his way out of this mess. It's unlikely, but as it is, the job keeps food on his table and a backup plan in his head. 

When will it all end? Felix has become reckless in his work, but not his disposal. The adrenaline rush from near death gives him that much more fight. Without it, he might give up on living. So he continues to push his limits, further, further. How close can he scrape to the line of death and dying without crossing over? He bites down harshly on his thumb and blinks dumbly as skin breaks. 

He gives a slight shake of his head and wipes the beads of blood onto his black cargo pants. The mask is pulled up over his face again, hood over his head, and his boots make clunky noises from the cement sidewalk to his motorbike. He'll just go for a little drive. That's what he tells himself. 

Felix knows in the end exactly where he's going. The compound comes into view and he should slam on the brakes, but his eyes only stare blankly ahead. It's all instinct. It's all in his gut. His heart- if it can be said that he has one- has leapt into his throat, his hands are shaky and his pulse races, uneven. 

He parks his bike and clenches his trembling fingers into fists. It always comes back to this. It always comes back to here. It's like the shaky high of too much caffeine, an extra shot of paranoia. It's a Pandora's box and every time he opens it, he loses himself inside. Damaged knuckles rap on a steel door. They will never be the same. Felix will carry them and his ugly scars to his awaiting grave. 

There's a screech of metal as the door is pushed up, and Felix crosses his arms to keep from hunching in on himself. Changbin's doe eyes stare back at him. Felix swallows roughly. 

"Hello." His voice is low, grating harsh and unused from his throat. Changbin blinks. 

"Minho," The boy calls, eyes still on Felix. "He's here." 

The knot in Felix's stomach grows tighter, the lump in his throat bigger, his fingers clench in the sleeves of his jacket. Minho comes into view almost immediately, expression pinched and angry. 

"Where?" He asks, scanning Felix up and down. "Where are you hurt?" 

"I'm not." Felix says, eyebrows furrowing. Minho blinks, then scoffs. 

"Bull." He says, and moves forward to get a closer look. "You only come here when you're hurt. Take your shirt off." 

Felix backs away hurriedly, and Minho halts in his movements, holding his hands up like Felix is some scared animal, like he's afraid of hurting him. The blonde clears his throat. 

"How have you been?" He asks, redirecting the conversation, and Minho looks at him like he just can't believe the words that come out of Felix's mouth. 

"How have I- you know you haven't been in two months, right?" The doctor's voice is sharp. "That's two months of not knowing where you are, what happened to you, no way of getting in contact-"

Minho cuts himself off with a deep inhale of air. Then he looks away, arms crossed. 

"How have I been." He says the words like they're poison on his tongue. 

Felix looks at him, then at Changbin, helplessly. 

"I'm sorry." He says, the words foreign in his mouth. Minho looks up at him, eyes still narrowed. "I just can't- I can't see why anyone would care. About that." 

_ About me. _

Minho stares at him for a moment longer, then leans back and sighs loudly, eyes on the ceiling. 

"Come in," he says tiredly. "Come, sit." 

Felix does. 

"Why are you here?" Changbin asks, from where he's been quiet. 

Felix hesitates. He's not really sure. It was more of an instinct than a reason. He shrugs, looking around the storage unit. 

"I dunno." He says. His hair flops into his eyes, and suddenly Changbin is there, tucking it behind Felix's ears. The blonde blinks quietly, shocked at the movement, and at the _ intimacy _of it. 

"You need a trim," Changbin muses to himself, and Felix can feel his face flushing from where he's seated on the hospital bed. He hasn't really been… taking care of himself, per se. "Minho, are the scissors clean?" 

There's a disgruntled noise from across the room, and the clang of metal as the doctor searches for the object in question. When found, they're passed to Changbin's waiting hands. He settles himself next to Felix on the bed, and the blonde stiffens as he feels the soft puff of breath against his neck from where Changbin is studying the length of his hair. 

"How short do you want it?" The boy asks, and Felix feels the tips of his ears heat up. He studies the tears in his cuticles and shrugs. 

"Whatever you think is best." He murmurs. Changbin seems satisfied by that answer. Felix still flinches when the boy comes near with the scissors, made for surgical purposes, they're cold where they brush his ear. 

"Stay still, okay?" Changbin asks, and then it's back to silence. 

Felix stares at where his hands are placed gently in his lap, scabbed over and riddled with scars. _ Disgusting. _The thought hurts a little more than it should. He closes his eyes so that he doesn't have to look anymore, exhales through his nose. It's easy to lose track of time with Changbin's hands in his hair, the small snipping noises of the scissors. Before he knows it, Felix has fallen asleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ "There's something wrong. Are you sure he's not hurt?" _

_ "It doesn't look like it, and I certainly can't find out without just taking off his shirt, which he won't let me do." _

_ "Then why would he come?" _

Felix makes a grumbling noise, shaking his head slightly to get rid of the buzz of talking. Soon enough, he's breathing steadily again. 

_ "This isn't healthy." _

_ "I don't know if you've noticed, but nothing about our jobs is healthy. We're fucked up, Changbin, all of us." _

_ "You know what I mean. You have to- we have to do something before he-" _

_ "Before he kills himself." A sigh. "I know." _

_ "Then when?" _

When Felix comes to, his head is on something soft, and something is scratching soothingly against his scalp. He hums, leaning into the touch, before he jolts away, his thoughts clearing. His eyes snap open and his breaths come out heavy, panicked. He looks around to take in his surroundings. 

The cluttered counters in the storage room glint metallically under the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Minho is seated on a stool in front of him, and there's a warm presence by his side. A quick glance tells him that the hands in his hair had belonged to Changbin. Felix gulps anxiously, hands fisting in the sheets on the bed. He doesn't speak. If he opens his mouth, he's sure nothing will come out. 

"Felix," Minho starts, then stops, ending in a helpless sigh, running his fingers through his hair. Felix's eyes follow every movement. "Has anyone ever told you that you're an idiot?" 

Felix blinks. Yes, he has heard that before. Beside him, Changbin hisses out a whisper of _ "Minho!" _The doctor sends Changbin a wide eyed stare. 

"That- that wasn't what I meant to say," he stutters out, and Felix is lost. Minho's usual cool demeanor is gone, leaving him shaky and nervous. "You know that- Changbin, help me out here. He'll listen to you." 

The boy in question sighs exasperatedly, head in his hands, before looking Felix in the eye. 

"Felix, do you have a place to stay?" The mask Felix hides behind obscures the downward turn of his lips. He shrugs. 

"I always find somewhere." He says, trying to sound nonchalant. It comes out monotone, blank. He watches Changbin's hand carefully as it slowly moves to rest on his thigh in an innocent gesture. Felix swallows. He's not used to touch, to intimacy, and it makes him shiver. He hopes Changbin doesn't catch it. 

"You know that you can always stay here, right?" Changbin asks, eyes almost pleading. "We wouldn't mind." 

Felix thinks of the sleepless nights and the bouts of paranoia and the nightmares- he shakes his head. A grating laugh comes out of his throat, and it hurts him to hear it. 

"You don't want that." He says, chuckling, eyes flitting away and to the floor. "I'm afraid I'd only cause you trouble, sorry. I'm not exactly a joy to be around." 

The last few words are an attempt at humor that falls short. He feels their eyes heavy on his body, and it makes him want to squirm. 

"We do want that." Felix's eyes shoot up as Minho speaks, head leaning into his hand. "I don't think you understand, Felix. We want you here. I don't think I can take the quiet. When you're not here, it's-" 

He breaks off, inhaling quickly. 

"I worry." 

Felix lets his lips part, his throat dry. He doesn't know what to say. He settles on the first thing that comes to his head. 

"I have to go." 

And he's ignoring Changbin's pleas as he gets up, walking briskly out the door. And still, he thinks, as he drives out of the compound. And still, he's never gotten a better night's sleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It wasn't supposed to go this way. His breaths fall heavy from his lips, gasping on every intake of air, pain shooting through his lungs. He can taste the iron tang of blood as it gathers in his mouth, his hand clutching his chest. 

His client lies dead on the floor, head bashed in from where Felix had thrown him against the corner of the wall. As it is, Felix is crumpled against the opposite wall, fingers bloody from where they press against the gaping wound close to his heart. 

He's lucky, really. Any closer, and he'd probably be dead. Not to say that he's clear of dying, yet. Maybe, he thinks, maybe karma has finally caught up with him. A wheeze forces its way out of his clenched teeth as he forces himself up on his legs. Mr. Park will not be happy. Then again, Mr. Park has, as far as Felix is concerned, no morals whatsoever. Even if his own are a little grey, Felix likes to think he can still do the right thing. Sometimes. 

He leans against the wall on his left shoulder, right hand still pressing against the knife wound in his chest, blood seeping out of the cracks between his fingers. A cough makes its way out of his lungs, forcing more red between his teeth and lips, and his thoughts race to find a way out. His mind is on one place, the closest place he has to home- he doesn't let himself dwell on that.

An ordinary hospital is out of the question. Hospitals mean paperwork, and paperwork means lies, as well as Mr. Park taking initiative to add more debt. The passports and birth certificates in his duffel will have to wait for another time. He tries not to gag as the hot, sticky mess of blood dries on his lips and fingers. 

Felix stumbles to the door, incriminating evidence of his client under his feet, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his olive jacket. Blood smears along the green like paint on a canvas. Felix feels dizzy. He doesn't bother to clean up. As soon as he realized his client's motives, he'd taken matters into his own hands, although it could have gone better than it did.

"Shit," He grinds out, struggling to catch his breath. He doesn't think he can drive in this condition. He slides his free hand into his back pocket to find the burner phone he keeps on him, scrolling through his contacts. He taps on the only one he can think of and waits for the call to be picked up. There's ringing and then a click, and Felix says the first thing that comes to his head. 

"Chris," He pants. "I fucked up." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He'd met Chris shortly after starting work. The other boy was older by three years, and had clearly been in the business for far longer than Felix. Felix doesn't know what the older had seen in him, but Chris had quickly taken him under his wing. He'd taught Felix everything he knows, hiding evidence, cleaning up a crime scene, picking and choosing what clients to take. He'd also helped Felix find his method. 

Chris was a knife man. He preferred precision and the knowledge of exactly where to strike, where Felix had relied on a gun to get the job done for him. Hours of target practice with no mufflers had offered Felix a permanent ring in his ears, as well as a new trick. There were other things to learn, though. Chris was fast to become Felix's sparring partner in close combat, teaching him the basics of boxing and martial arts. 

Through rain and shine, Chris was there. He'd picked Felix up time and time again, always with a guilty look in his eye, like he couldn't bear to see Felix in this line of work. They never talked about what had happened before. They only trusted one another. Chris was the only person Felix could trust. 

Now, as the older boy holds him, Felix smiles deliriously. His fingers tighten in Chris's black pea coat. 

"You came." He croaks out, blood leaving his lips in a steady trickle. 

"Of course I came." Chris answers, giving Felix a once-over before herding him to his car. "Shit, he really did a number on you, huh? What happened to everything I taught you?" 

Felix stumbles into the passenger seat, Chris buckling the seat belt for him. The younger inhales slowly, swallowing around the blood in his throat. 

"I messed up." Felix says quietly, giving a watery smile. "Sorry." 

Chris sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

"You better be," He scolds. "How many times am I supposed to pick up after you?" 

The door shuts, and Felix slumps in his seat. He doesn't know how long it is before they reach the compound, only that Minho is there to greet them. The doctor's eyes are wide, and he's quick to open the door as Chris hauls Felix inside. 

"What happened?" He hisses, and Felix looks up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Minho is talking to Chris, but his eyes are only on Felix. Felix smiles, and Minho flinches. 

"He got careless." Chris says gruffly, setting Felix down on the bed and arranging his heavy limbs so that the younger is lying down. "No surprise there." 

Felix can only stare blankly at the lights above him as the clatter of metal and squeaking of wheels grows close. 

"Help me set up an IV," Minho says, and it's the last thing Felix hears before he blacks out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He jolts upright, thoughts hazy and fear in his heart, reaching for anything and coming back empty handed. Pain shoots through his chest and his mouth opens but nothing comes out. He's scrabbling around with his fingers, pulling on wires and hearing the increase of what must be his pulse on a machine, beeping loudly. Hands press down on his shoulders to hold him down. 

"Shit-" Comes a breathless voice as Felix shudders and jerks in his place. "Felix, calm down, it's Chris. You're safe, you're okay." 

It takes Felix an embarrassing amount of time to recognize Chris's voice, and even longer to connect it to the hands holding him down. His chest quakes in shuddering breaths, throbbing in sharp pains. 

"Chris?" He wheezes, eyes fluttering open and then closing again against fluorescent lights. 

"That's right." Chris says, squeezing his shoulders. It takes almost too long for the tension to leave Felix's body. His muscles are beyond sore and his head is pounding, but he finally manages to relax as much as he can against the bed sheets. 

"Where's Minho?" He finds himself asking, before he can stop himself, eyes squinting open. "Changbin?" 

Chris sighs, shaking his head. There's the scrape of a chair moving backwards, and footsteps nearing the bed Felix lies on. He looks up, and exhales in relief at the sight of Changbin's face. His eyelids flutter closed as the boy rests a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. 

Felix doesn't like to be touched, doesn't deserve it, but this- he can't fight this off. The back of Changbin's hand is cool against his skin. It's gone almost too quickly. 

"He still has a fever," Changbin tells Chris, eyes serious. "It'll be gone with time and lots of water. As for the stab wound," he takes time to look at Felix, whose fingers curl into fists in the blankets. "He'll need to stay here for a few days." 

Felix's immediate instinct is to protest. He doesn't like being vulnerable, under anyone's care. It makes him feel like he owes them something. This time, though, he forces himself to stay quiet. He's fucked up enough already. He turns his head on the pillow so that it faces away from the two men at his bedside, no matter how much his body aches to look, to take in all of Changbin that he hasn't seen in so long. 

"Felix," Changbin's voice is soft. "What happened?" 

Felix exhales through his nose and closes his eyes. 

"I fucked up. Nothing new." 

"You've got me there." Comes a cold voice, and this time Felix does look. It's hard not to show the immediate relief that fills his chest. Minho stares at him, eyes narrowed. Something in Felix's chest stutters. He stays quiet. 

"Are you fucking stupid?" Minho seethes, stalking forward from his place by the door. "How many times have I told you to _ be fucking careful-" _

He stops himself short, as if he sees something on Felix's face. Felix is quick to drop whatever expression he'd had in favor of something neutral.

"I should get out of your hair," Felix murmurs, sitting up slowly and wincing at the sharp, shooting pain in his chest. 

"Oh, absolutely fucking _ not." _Minho hisses, pushing him down gently compared to his harsh tone. "You're staying here for five days minimum, whether you like it or not." 

And Felix _ really _ can't bring himself to protest, not when Minho is looking at him like _ that. _ He tries and fails not to shiver. Changbin watches him worriedly and hurries away to get him another blanket. Felix clenches his hands in the fabric, and he feels so _ helpless. _

"I've gotta get going," Chris says, stepping closer to the door. "Felix, if you ever need anything, just call." 

Felix nods absentmindedly. His head is all over the place and his eyes are somewhere they shouldn't be, lingering over Minho's lips when they should be on the ground. Felix almost wants Chris to stay. Aside from the fact that it's been too long since they last saw each other, he's a little reluctant to be with Minho and Changbin on his own. But he knows the older has work to do, and places to be, so he lets him go. When the screech of metal as the door falls shut fades, Felix brings himself to look into Minho's eyes. 

"How long have I been out?" He rasps, throat dry. Something in Minho's face darkens. 

"Too long." He mutters, turning away to grab a thermometer. "Mouth. Open."

Felix does as he's told, albeit a bit hesitant. Minho's hand isn't rough when he guides the thermometer under Felix's tongue. For that, he's grateful. He stays quiet, mouth closed, until there's a telling beep, and Minho removes the device gently, holding it up so he can read it. 

"Hm." The doctor mumbles, beckoning Changbin over from nearby and showing him the results. 

"He did have a slight fever earlier," Changbin explains, and Minho's gaze drops down to look at Felix again. Felix can only stare up at him, hands still curled in the blankets. Minho huffs out a loud sigh. His hands fidget like there's something he wants to do with them, but instead they fall back to his sides. Felix's eyes lower. 

"I'm sorry," he mutters, before clearing his throat. "For causing you so much trouble." 

Minho is silent for a moment. Then he reaches forward to grab Felix's face in his hands, forcing the blonde to look up at him. 

"You're not a fucking _ burden _ to me, Felix, don't you dare start thinking that." He hisses. "You cause me trouble because I want you _ safe, _ and you're anything _ but. _ Have you ever stopped to think that we don't patch you up because it's our job, but because we fucking _ care about you?" _

Felix's lips part, his eyes wide and staring up at Minho, watching the look of anger that crosses his face. 

"No one does," It slips out before he can stop it, and it's like Minho's whole body stops. "No one has cared for so long. I'm used to it being that way." 

The grip Minho has on Felix's face tightens, and the blonde barely has time to take a breath before lips are crashing down onto his own. He freezes, stiff against the softness of Minho's lips, thoughts racing a mile a minute. His eyes are still open, staring straight ahead at the smooth plane of Minho's cheek, the arch of his left eyebrow, the soft lashes of his closed eyes on his skin. 

He rips himself away, chest seizing with pain, lungs heaving for breath. His lips tingle and he hates himself, hates himself for the hurt look in Minho's eyes as the brunette's gaze lands on him. Felix's eyes dart to look at Changbin, frozen by the IV, and his heart stops. 

"I-" He stumbles over the mess of syllables that tries to escape his lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't, what-" 

Felix looks helplessly between Minho and Changbin and the thoughts he can't seem voice come unbidden to his mind. 

"What about Changbin?" He blurts, looking Minho in the eye, panicked. Minho's eyebrows furrow. 

"What about him?" Minho asks, confused. Felix stutters, flustered, heat rising to his cheeks. 

"Aren't you- aren't you _ involved?" _Felix's heart pounds with the anxiety and hurt that comes with the words. Minho stares at him for a moment before turning to Changbin. 

"Changbin, come here?" He beckons the boy closer. Changbin's gait is casual as he walks over, fingers slipping into Minho's own. Felix's eyes linger on where their hands lock together. "Felix, I don't think you understand. _ We _care about you." 

Something stutters in Felix's chest, and then he's doubled over, head in his hands, breath coming fast. He can't _ do _this, he can't-

He feels a soft hand under his chin and looks up with glossy eyes. Changbin's expression is sad, looking at Felix with compassion, and then he's leaning in, leaving a gentle kiss on Felix's lips. 

"I don't understand," Felix chokes out, when Changbin pulls away. 

"Is this something you want, Felix?" Minho asks, and Felix can't seem to find the words. His hands fall from his hair into his lap, and his head tilts up gently. 

_ "Yes." _Comes the shaky reply, falling from his trembling lips like a secret waiting to be told. And Minho is there again, kissing with such passion that Felix can't help the broken whimper that leaves his throat, eyelashes growing wet with unshed tears. 

When Minho pulls away, after nipping at Felix's lower lip, Felix gasps for air, tugging at the brunette's shirt in his hands as if begging for another kiss. The next one is gentle, followed by another from Changbin. They take turns like that until Felix is completely and utterly winded, helping him lean back against the pillows as a hiccupping sob leaves his lips. He tries to bite it back, to no avail. 

"It's okay," Changbin whispers, fingers threading their way into Felix's hair, scratching gently against his scalp. "We've got you. You can rest now, you're safe." 

Felix hides his face in his hands, and for the first time in years, he cries. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The days pass slowly, yet quickly at the same time. There's something strange in the air now, and Felix finds himself unable to do much about it. The three of them are someplace between balance and curiosity, and it drives Felix insane. He's not used to any of it, the lingering kisses they'll leave as he wakes up from a nightmare he couldn't seem to escape, the absentminded stroking of his hair while they fill out paperwork. He finds himself flinching away more than a couple times. 

But no matter how much he protests, they won't let him out of bed. He lies there in absolute despair as they continually change his bandages and check the stitches in his chest. He hisses through his teeth when Minho unwraps the bindings for the umpteenth time, chest exposed to what feels like frigid cold air. 

"Minho," He huffs, and shivers as the brunette runs a hand over his collar bone. "Just- stop looking, just get it over with." 

He won't admit that he's scared of Minho's wandering eyes, however kind they may be. His thoughts are full of how _ disgusting _ he must look, scars every place imaginable, times when both he and Minho had to sew him up the same. His body is a mess and it's _ ugly. _His eyelids flutter closed and Minho seems to be able to read him so perfectly. The doctor pulls away and rubs his thumb along Felix's cheekbone, prompting him to open his eyes. 

"You're beautiful." He murmurs, pressing his lips to Felix's chest, even as the blonde flinches away. As Minho leans away, Felix's jaw clenches, already closing up, but he doesn't say anything. "Don't do that. Don't hide from me." Minho says, and Felix swallows roughly. 

"I-" He cuts himself off, watching Minho gather more bandages from the counter. "What do you even see in me? I'm just- just me." 

Minho's gaze is soft where it would usually be flaming. He leans over to leave a peck on Felix's forehead, setting the bandages in his hands on the hospital bed. 

"Don't you see?" He murmurs, looking deep into Felix's eyes. "It's _ because _ you're you." 

Felix doesn't see. But he can pretend to, if it'll get Minho to kiss him more. Years of isolation have left Felix touch-starved, craving every brush of Minho's fingers on his skin. The door shrieks and Changbin walks in, holding a bag of takeout. He raises his eyebrows, looking at Felix's chest. 

"Without me?" He asks, and Felix splutters as heat rushes to his cheeks. He hides his reddening face in his hands and doesn't bother trying to dispute it as Minho laughs. 

"What happened to the big bad wolf you used to be?" He teases Felix, picking the bandages up again and beginning to unwind them. Felix peeks out from between his fingers with a glare. 

"I got stabbed." He mutters, and his hands fall away to his sides. Changbin looks at him with a barely contained smirk. 

"And whose fault was that?" Felix is going to die.

"Can you just-" His fingers fidget in the blankets. "Come here? Please?" 

Changbin blinks, setting the food down on a clean counter and walking over to the bed. As soon as he gets there, Felix reaches out with bandaged fingers, crooked from breaking so many times, and curls them into Changbin's shirt. It's an unspoken plea, one that is immediately answered. Changbin leans down to meet Felix's lips with his own, and Felix lets his eyes close. 

Felix has to sit up properly for Minho to replace the bandages around his torso, and his forehead knocks into Changbin's as he moves. Changbin maneuvers himself so that he's sitting on Felix's lap on the bed, and Felix's heart rate speeds up dramatically. Minho huffs a laugh, eyeing the screen of the monitor. 

"Don't give him a heart attack." He teases, and Felix glares. Changbin distracts him by pressing a feather-light kiss along his cheekbone. 

"Ignore him," Changbin mumbles against his skin, and Felix shivers, fingers tightening their grip in the fabric of Changbin's shirt. "Just focus on me." 

It's admittedly harder than it seems. Minho runs his fingers up along Felix's rib cage as Changbin kisses the corner of the blonde's eye. It's obvious that instead of working like he's supposed to, rewrapping Felix's wound, Minho is having way too much fun. He scrapes his nails up Felix's side and watches the boy shiver as his skin breaks into goosebumps. Felix lets out a shuddering breath into Changbin's mouth as he locks them together. 

But they never truly give him what he wants, pulling away, and Minho finishes wrapping him up.

"Unbelievable." He says, breathless, leaning his head forward onto Changbin's shoulder. "Absolutely unbelievable." 

Minho rolls his eyes. 

"Please," He says, leaning in to leave a peck on the crown of Felix's head. "You'll get plenty of kisses after you eat." 

As if an affirmation, Felix's stomach growls. He huffs in annoyance and takes his food. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When the five days are up, and Felix isn't required by Minho to stay in bed, he almost wishes he could get hurt again so he can stay. Instead he breathes out heavy through his nose as Changbin helps him put his jacket on. It's been put through the wash, but there's a permanent stain of pale rust on the left sleeve. He isn't allowed to do anything physically demanding, but he still has work to do, so Minho brings his duffel bag inside when Chris drops it off. 

He sits at one of the counters, examining his potential clients, as well as evidence from the Jung case. 

_ Don't think about it. _

He tells himself, the annoying buzz of a replayed memory coming on. Changbin notices the frown on his face and puts his arms around Felix's waist, shocking him. Felix jerks in his hold, wincing at the pain that shoots through his chest at the sudden movement. 

"Sorry," Changbin murmurs, frowning. "I should have asked." 

Felix just shakes his head, hand coming down to rest on Changbin's forearm. 

"It's fine." His voice is thicker than he'd thought it would be, and he clears his throat to distract Changbin from it, though he doesn't think it works. "Just surprised me."

He doesn't think it ever won't. He's gone too long without touch to regain that level of comfort around other people. He'd thought he might be overwhelmed at the sudden change, and maybe he was, but he didn't think that it would feel so _ good. _Changbin rests his head on Felix's shoulder from behind and his soft breath tickles the shell of the blonde's ear. Felix thinks this might be the most at peace he's ever been, since Before. He shudders, and flips forward a few pages in the Jung file. 

Changbin catches on. He always has, even before this new development between them. His arms squeeze Felix a little tighter and he presses a kiss to the blonde's head as if trying to bring him out of his thoughts. 

"What are you working on?" He asks, voice low. Felix pauses in his work, looking over his shoulder at Changbin's soft face. Something flickers in his eyes and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. 

"You and I both know that's confidential." The blonde hums. Changbin huffs, lips falling into a pout as they press against Felix's ear. 

"Doesn't hurt to try," he says sullenly. Felix shivers again, feeling Changbin's lips curl up into a smile against his skin. "Can I help?" 

"No," Felix says casually, as he turns his head to focus once again on the folder in front of him. Changbin pouts some more. "Go bother Minho." Felix teases, and Changbin's frown deepens. 

"But I want to bother _ you." _He says, breathing right into Felix's ear and relishing in the full body shudder it elicits. 

"Changbin-" Felix starts, cutting himself off before he can continue. "I don't-" 

"Hush," Changbin says, landing a soft kiss on the plane between Felix's shoulder and neck. "We don't have to do anything. I'm only teasing." 

Felix hates that he can feel himself relaxing at those words. He hates that he's like this. Changbin seems to sense his troubles, sees the way Felix's teeth are digging into his lower lip. 

"Hey," he says, softly. "You know you don't have to do anything for us, right? We could go our whole lives just kissing and holding hands, and Minho and I would be fine with that." 

Felix shakes with frustration, setting his pen down on the counter and letting his head fall into his hands. 

"It's not that," he tries. "I _ want _to, I just-" 

Changbin removes an arm from around Felix's waist to turn the blonde's head to face him. He runs his thumb along Felix's cheekbone as if wiping away non-existent tears. 

"You don't owe me an explanation." He whispers, and Felix feels his throat close up around words he wants to say, but can't. "Whatever you need to say, it can wait until you're ready." 

The screech of the metal door has them both pausing, looking over to see Minho enter with another duffel bag. This one isn't Felix's. The blonde's eyebrows furrow at seeing it. 

"Someone got paid!" Minho says gleefully, hauling the duffel closer to the pair at the counter. "Want to go out tonight?" 

Felix huffs, disappointed. 

"I'd like to, but I'm slammed." He says, running a hand through his hair and effectively mussing it up. "You two go ahead. You can bring me something back if you feel like it." 

Minho pouts, but it isn't long before he pulls Changbin outside and they shut the door behind them. Felix sighs, and gets back to thumbing through the pages of the file. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


As soon as they leave, Felix is knee deep in paperwork again, but Changbin's words are stuck in his head. 

_ I want to bother _ ** _you. _ **

Felix tries not to shiver and fails miserably. He remembers Minho's nails scratching against his skin and lets out a shuddering breath. Suddenly, he feels hot all over. He gets up and shakes himself off as best as he can. He's new to this feeling, had never really had time for it before. He feels filled with boiling water and like he's freezing at the same time. 

When he steps out the door, he leaves with only one thought in his mind. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It's just a short walk, but by the time he makes it back to the compound the sun is already setting. He pops into the infirmary and startles when he sees that Minho and Changbin are already back, talking anxiously. 

"Felix!" Changbin calls, when he notices Felix in the doorway. "We were worried sick!" 

"Sorry," Felix says sheepishly, scratching at his head. "I just went for a wa-" 

Minho shuts him up quickly, smashing their lips together, and Felix doesn't think he'll ever get tired of it. He makes a small noise into the kiss, flushing when Minho notices and kisses him harder. 

"Minho," He gasps, when they finally part, his hands gripping fistfuls of the brunette's shirt. Minho smirks and Felix's breath hitches when he feels arms surround him from behind. 

"Felix," Changbin murmurs into the blonde's ear. "Do you want this?" 

And he _ does. _

_ "Yes." _He says, and it comes out a broken whimper, all small and unhurried as they move him to where their beds are pressed together. 

When he's on the sheets they attack him from both sides, Changbin kissing his lips and Minho sucking at his neck. 

It's so good that he almost can't breathe, breath catching in his throat and coming out in quiet noises that have his cheeks turning red. He loses himself in those kisses. He loses himself, and he comes back whole. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He awakens not as he's used to, panting and sweaty from a nightmare, but encased in warmth and softness. He can feel the puff of Minho's breath against the skin of his collar bone, and Changbin's fingers tapping a rhythm on his chest. 

_ I love you. _

The thought comes to him suddenly, and at the same time it's as if he's always known. He feels the shift of Changbin's body, and the boy presses a kiss to Felix's head. 

"We know," He says, and Felix realizes that he's said it out loud. "We love you too." 

Minho makes a sound of quiet agreement, nuzzling in closer. Felix's chest feels full, yet broken. He's never felt this way for anyone in his life. All the messed up things that had happened to him, everything that is still yet to come, and he couldn't be happier than this. 

"Thank you," he whispers, eyelashes fluttering closed. "For loving me."


	2. Author's Note

A/N: thank you so much for reading ❤️❤️❤️ this one took a lot out of me as I wasn't in the best place while writing it, but i hope you enjoyed. take care of yourselves in this hard time. fighting.

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